Rider's Girlfriend
by PhoenixOnTheRise
Summary: She's determined to be more than just a trophy wife.


**Idea came from a review from one of my other fics entitled **_**Love Mechanisms**_**. Brittany is a motocross rider in her senior year. She's in a qualifier for the biggest race of her life when one of her competitors let's his ego get the better of him. Proud girlfriend Santana is determined to be more than just a "trophy wife." **

**Au. Most of the parts about racing in this one-shot are made up. Sorry.**

* * *

**Santana POV**

"Teach me how to ride," I said sticking my nose up to the man sitting across from me.

He sighs. "You know I can't do that, Santana."

"And why not?" I say raising an eyebrow.

"It's too dangerous. You saw what happened to Brittany out there. Three broken ribs. A dislocated shoulder. A dislocated knee. Cuts, bruises, scrapes. Not to mention the emotional damage it's doing to all three of us, Santana. I'm not going to let you risk it." he replies.

"Mr. P you have to let me try. This was Brittany's big shot. You of all people should know how much she wanted this. I can't let that bastard get away with it. Someone needs to put him in his place. And I think that should be me. Let me do this for her, James. Please. Please." I plead.

"Santana. . . " he begins hesitantly, collecting his thoughts, "You've become like a second daughter to me. If anything were to happen to you, I think I'd lose it. Brittany needs us to be there for her and support her through this rough time. She'd only be more stressed if she knew that you were putting your safety in danger for her. We can deal with Hudson some other way."

I sigh. "You're right Mr. P. I'm sorry. I'm going back to hospital now, I told Britt I'd be back when she got out of surgery," I say standing up.

"Give her my best. I'll be there during my lunch break," he says.

I nod and exit the room.

* * *

Britt is watching cartoons when I enter her room. She grins from ear to ear when she sees me and I can't help but return the gesture.

"Hey baby," I say closing the door. I make my way over to her outstretched arm and gently hug her and give her a lingering kiss on the forehead. I pull up a chair next to her and intertwine our fingers.

"How'd the second surgery go?" I ask.

"The doctor says it went well. No complications. My nurse is going to come in and check the stitches in a few hours but until then I'm not supposed to touch it and I have to wear this sling," she says wiggling it.

I chuckle. How'd I get so lucky? She's just too cute.

"That's good love. How is everything else? 'Cuz I will cut someone if you're not being taken care of properly."

"S'fine Tana. You don't need to hurt anybody. I can't feel my knee right now but that's cause the doctor gave me some pain killers. My ribs hurt from time to time but that's to be expected. I learned laughing isn't very fun with three broken ribs," she pouts.

I give her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze and a sad smile in sympathy.

She continues, "My nurse's name is Jackie. She's really nice. She brought me jell-o from the cafeteria and made sure to put extra whipped cream on it just like I asked. And she lets me watch cartoons. But I missed you."

"I missed you too," I say.

We stare into each other's eyes for what could be forever, but in reality is only two minutes.

"I missed your sweet lady kisses," she whispers not breaking eye contact but slowly leaning in, hovering over my lips.

I gulp from the closeness, "I don't wanna hurt you," I whisper back.

"You won't," she says closing the distance.

At first we just stay lip locked, savoring each other's mouths and taste. I bring my hands up to cup her cheeks as we start moving against each other. She glides her tongue across my bottom lip and I grant her access with ease. We're full on making out and it takes everything in me not let my hands stray from where they are. Her hands are fisting my shirt around my torso when we pull back eyes closed, foreheads resting together. Our hot breaths mix in proximity as we pant in and out.

"I really missed you," she breathes out giving me a quick peck then pulling away grinning lazily.

My hands drop to grab hers again. "I love you Britt," I say just because I can.

"I love you too," she replies immediately.

"Come cuddle with me?" she asks in a child-like voice scooting over a bit and grimacing.

I walk around to her good side and carefully lie down next to her. I rest my head on her good shoulder and ghost my lips on her collarbone. She yawns adorably.

"Get some sleep babe. I'll be right her when you wake up. I love you," I tell her.

"Love you too," she says nuzzling her pillow and drifting into sleep.

I watch her for a minute, content with the peaceful expression she displays in her sleep before turning off the TV and taking a nap myself.

* * *

I put the key in the lock and turn slowly. The door opens and I tip toe inside as quietly as possible. By now I know which steps creak where and carefully avoid them as I make my way upstairs. I tip toe passed Mr. P's room to the back of the hallway and make carefully slip into Britt's racing room. I use the flashlight to navigate through the closet to find one of her old racing outfits that would fit me.

The light turns on and I spin around quickly, my heart beating out of my chest.

Mr. Pierce is in his pajamas rubbing his eyes. "Santana?" he questions. "What are you doing here? Are you trying to race behind my back young lady?"

"Mr. P I have to. I know you don't understand, but I. Need. To do this. Nothing you can say or do is going to stop me. I've already made up my mind," I say stubbornly.

He sighs. "Okay, but I'm going to teach you. I can't have you running around untrained and end up hurting yourself. We'll start tomorrow, but for now get some sleep. You can stay in Britt's room if you like."

I tackle him with a hug chanting, "Thank you, thank you."

He pats my back to let me know I've hugged him enough. He leaves the room tiredly and I hang the uniform back up. Hitting the lights on the way out, I make my way to Britt's room, a victorious smirk plastered across my face.

* * *

At 8 AM Mr. P comes in and wakes me up with a plate of eggs, milk, and a banana.

"Eat up kid," he says, "You're going to need it. Meet me in the racing room when you're done. You know what Britt wears."

I nod and do as I'm told.

* * *

It was like learning how to ride a regular bike. He taught me all the different parts, how to test it, what's right and what's wrong, and how to navigate the track. I fell a few times but he was always right there to pick me back up and help me get it right. I have a lot of work to do, but it wasn't a bad start in my opinion.

I collapse dramatically onto the couch as we make our way inside. Mr. P chuckles at me.

"This is what I get for quitting cheerios," I say throwing an arm over my eyes.

I don't think my body has felt this sore since the first day of cheering under Coach Sue's iron fist.

"Why don't you go take a relaxing shower, you stink kiddo," James says, "I'll go make dinner so that we can eat and go see Brittany."

I groan pushing myself off the couch and trudge up the stairs. The hot water feels good on my aching body. It takes a while to get all the dirt from the crevices, as I learned the first time Britt asked me to help her after a race sophomore year. I blush at the memory. She asked so innocently, I couldn't say no. It was the first time I had seen my best friend completely naked.

I step out of the shower and let the steam penetrate my skin as I reach for a towel. I can smell lasagna wafting from the kitchen and invading my senses. My favorite. I pick out an outfit from my stash in Britt's room and pull my hair into a French braid.

* * *

We make casual conversation as we eat. We're almost done when he puts his fork down and clears his throat. I stop mid action, my fork halfway to my mouth, and look up.

"Brittany. . . Brittany can't know about this," he says, his eyes pleading.

I nod. "My lips are sealed," I say shoving the last bite of lasagna into my mouth.

The ride to the hospital is silent, other than the radio playing 80s music in the background.

Britt is asleep when we get there, so I leave Mr. P in the room and get us some coffee.

They're talking animatedly when I return, slipping quietly through the door.

Britt winks at me then turns back to the conversation with her dad. I let them talk for a while and play games on my phone. I hear Britt ask, "Where were you guys today?"

Mr. P replies first, "Just doing some paperwork around the shop Britt, nothing fun."

She turns to me, "Tana? What about you?"

Both sets of eyes are on me, but glee club has helped me with my acting skills the past few years.

"Just spending some time home Britt, chores and stuff. You know how my mom is" I say rolling my eyes.

She nods and pats the seat next to her. We fall into easy conversation until visiting hours are over and we promise Britt to come back as soon as possible with, "real food."

* * *

trains me mercilessly for the next six weeks. My body gets used to the incessant workout and I'm in possibly the best shape of my life. We enter me in the rematch qualifier that was postponed when that douche decided he wanted to wipe out my girlfriend. We use Britt's pit crew who I threatened to keep secret about all this. Today is the race and I have to admit this is more nerve wrecking than I ever could've thought. Britt has been racing for twelve years, she makes it look so easy. Mr. P senses my nerves and wraps me up in a hug.

"You'll be fine, I believe in you kiddo. Brittany was just like this during her first race," he says smiling at the memory. "To calm her down," he chuckles, "I had bribe her with ice-cream."

I smile into his shoulder.

"But I don't think that's gonna work with you," he says. "Just go out there and win for your girl, Santana."

The words give me a newfound confidence and I'm strutting towards the gates with Britt's remodeled bike.

* * *

The white flag drops and I'm flying out of the gates past all my competitors, Hudson hot on my trail.

I cut the brakes on the first turn and leave him in the dust.

"Woah, Rod, who is this new racer?" announcer number one asks.

"Tony, that is Santana Lopez. Now, correct me if I'm mistaken, but isn't that the girlfriend of one Brittany Pierce?" announcer number two asks.

"That would be correct, Rod. Santana Lopez is Pierce's girlfriend. Now, for those of you who don't know this, Brittany Pierce was recently injured in the original event of this race. Seems like Santana picked up some tricks of the trade, eh?"

"Sure does. She's in the lead right now, but Hudson is right behind her. Will she be able to hold this lead for the next 29 minutes, Tony?"

"I think she can. This girl has serious determination, and if she's anything like her girlfriend, there's no way in hell she's going to let anyone else win," says Tony.

* * *

"And here are the standings," says Rod. "In first place with 49 points, a near perfect score, is Santana Lopez."

"She's certainly one to keep an eye on, Rod," Says Tony.

"That she is. In second place with 48 points is Finn Hudson, followed by Rider Lynn to complete the top three. The others advancing to the next round include Noah Puckerman, Blaine Anderson, Sam Evans, Kitty Wilde, Mike Change, Quinn Fabray, and Jesse St. James."

"These ten racers will compete in the quarter finals in three weeks where two will be eliminated. One week after that, three more will be gone in the semi finals. And in the finals, two will remain to compete head to head for who will represent the state of Ohio in the Grand Competition against riders from each state," says Tony.

"That concludes today's race," says Rod. "Everyone have a safe trip home and hope to see you here soon for the next race."

* * *

I run into Mr. P's arms and he spins me around like I'm a little girl.

"I knew you could do it," he says putting me down.

"I learned from the best," I say shrugging. "But now I just wanna go home and see my girlfriend, this uniform is really hot."

* * *

Mr. Pierce unloads the truck while I shower. I throw on some comfy sweats and a v-neck so we can head to the hospital. We stop and get food on the way over, where I insist on getting a kid's meal so that Britt can have the toy.

Mr. P coughs out, "whipped," and I just glare at him.

Brittany squeals when we walk through the door holding the goods. She pulls me down by the shirt and kisses me deep until Mr. P clears his throat behind us. I blush and Brittany just shrugs used to it already. We eat our food in relative silence as Brittany hums in appreciation and sways back and forth. Genes of a dancer, I conclude.

Mr. P leaves for a while to give Britt and I some alone time which we use to cuddle and trade lazy kisses.

She falls asleep halfway through _The Fox and The Hound, _so I kiss her forehead before gently removing myself and stepping out.

* * *

We spend the whole day together the next day. James gave me the day off from training because I did so well yesterday.

We're making out again and Britt's getting pretty handsy. I can't blame her though. We haven't been able to have sex for over a month and I'm hella frustrated. She's leaving hickeys up my neck and groping my boobs. By now, her ribs are healing quite well, her knee and shoulder don't have stitches anymore and she should be starting therapy for them soon. Most of the cuts and bruises have disappeared, but she'd still be beautiful either way. It's torturous for her though, going from being active and sexual everyday to being confined to a bed.

"Mmm, Britt. We should, we should stop," I manage to get out.

She pouts at me. I look away unable to resist.

"I'm just as horny as you are baby, but you're still healing and I don't want to risk anything," I say sympathetically.

I'm saved by the bell when my phone starts ringing. I give pouting lips a quick peck before untangling myself and taking the phone into the hallway.

"Mija!" my mom's startled voice yells.

"Si, mamí. ¿Qué pasa?" (Yes, mom. What's up).

"There is a young man here looking for you, says something about he raced against you yesterday in that dangerous sport Brittany does," she says accusingly.

I gulp nervously. "Uh, he doesn't know what he's talking about mom. Just tell him he's got the wrong address. I don't race, and Brittany's injured right now."

"If you say so mija, just be careful, okay?" she tells me.

"Y-yeah, sure, of course. Thanks so much mamí. Te mucho amo." (I love you)

"Te amo tambien, Santanita. Adios." (I love you too, Santana. Goodbye)

I hang up with a sigh of relief. Britt is staring at me curiously as I walk back out.

"What was that about?" she asks.

I wave it off, "Nothing babe, just some kid showing up at my house with the wrong address. Now where were we?" I say putting my lips on hers to prevent further questioning.

* * *

I advance through the next two races with little difficulty. It's just me and Hudson in the finals next week.

I've been in routine of racing, visiting Britt, and finding time for my parents for the past two months. I'm picking up flowers for Britt today because she's completed one month of therapy so far and I couldn't be more proud. She's still unaware of my scheming and activities but I don't wanna worry her. She'll be hella pissed at me when she finds out, but hopefully I persuade her to see why I did it.

I find her in the training room in the hospital with a young male trainer stretching her quad and staring at her chest.

"Hey baby," I purr standing overtop her. "Sorry I'm late, I couldn't get the twins to fall asleep. They wanted you to read them a bedtime story and just couldn't stop crying."

"I uh, I have to go," the guy says awkwardly and practically runs away.

Britt and I laugh. "Thank god, San, he wouldn't stop looking at me the way only you're allowed to," she says standing up. She puts the knee brace back on and grabs her crutches so that she's leaning on them in front of me.

"These are for you," I say giving her the pink carnations.

She smells them with a content smile.

"Thank you," she says leaning forward to kiss me.

"Anytime beautiful," I say. "How bout we go back to your room and have lunch?"

"Can we have breadstix delivered?" she asks.

"Sure can Britt Britt," I say all too happily. I fucking love this woman.

* * *

It's the day of state finals. Me Vs Hudson. Mr. P is incredibly nervous, both of us fearing this dick will do something stupid like he did to Britt. I zone out on the ride over, listening to sweet melodies to ease my mind.

We find our tent easily and I'm surprised to see my parents there waiting for us.

"Mamí! Papí!" I yell out running over to hug them. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to see our baby girl race," says my dad looking at me. He steps over to Mr. P with his hand outstretched. "Thanks for taking care of our daughter, James."

"No problem, Diego. You know Santana is like a daughter to me as is Brittany to you. She's a stubborn one, but I couldn't ask for anyone better for my daughter," says James, trying not to cry.

"We're going to find our seats," says my mom. "Good luck honey, be safe," she warns giving me a tight hug.

"I will mom, thanks."

* * *

"Well, Rod, it all comes down to this. Lopez, a new-comer with a fire in her eyes unlike any I've ever seen. And Hudson, an experienced rider looking to go pro. Anything can happen here folks, what do you think Rod?"

"Tony, I don't know about you but I've always been one to root for the underdog. My money is on Lopez all the way."

The official raises the white flag and I rev my bike, channeling Snixx. That's what I named my racing alter ego. I even got a custom uniform with it printed on the back.

Hudson and I are neck and neck out of the gate. I grit my teeth and lean forward trying to get an edge. Hudson cuts inside on the first turn leaving me slightly behind him again. I gain advantage a few minutes later when he rides through a wet muddy patch on the track and smirk victoriously. We ride like that for until there's two minutes left.

We're coming up to another turn and out of the corner of my eye I can see Hudson veering right at me. I turn at the last second and dodge his bike. He skids out of control and into the barriers. I fly by him laughing in my head.

He hops right back up and is on my trail again. I roll my eyes. Why can't he just fucking give up? There's no way I'm going to give him the satisfaction of wining this race.

I accelerate my bike and brake on the curve, power sliding around the turn and leaving Hudson in a cloud of dust.

The crowd erupts in cheer around me. I feel like I'm flying as I course through the last minute. Hudson has no chance of catching me. The horn sounds and slide into a stop, jumping off the bike and leaping over the barriers to hug Mr. P. Hudson throws his helmet on the ground and storms off. Mini confetti cannons shoot off in the crowd and I throw my arms up encouraging them to cheer louder. My parents hug me next and I can't wipe the shit eating grin off my face.

"There you have it, folks," says Tony. "Ohio's number one motocross rider Santana "Snixx" Lopez. That was quite a move she pulled there in the closing minute, Rod. I can't wait to see what tricks she has up her sleeves for the Grand Completion."

"Couldn't agree with you more Tony. From Sports News Ohio, I'm Rod Patrick."

"And I'm Tony Suarez. Goodnight."

* * *

"Good racing out there Lopez," a gruff male voice says from behind me.

"Thanks Puckerman," I say shaking his hand.

"Can I has your autograph?" asks a small voice from inbetween Puckerman and Fabray. She's holding up a pen and notepad towards me hopefully.

"Sure can," I reply taking them from her. "What's your name cutie?"

"Beth," she replies happily giving me a toothless grin.

'Dear Beth,' I write, 'Thanks for being my number one fan. 3 Santana Lopez'

"This is so cool," she tells me as I give it back to her. I just wink. Beth skips off dragging Fabray with her.

"How's your girl doing," Puck asks.

"Much better. She gets out of the hospital in two weeks. Hopefully she'll forgive me in time to come support me at the big race." I sigh.

"She doesn't know you started racing, does she?" he concludes.

"No, she doesn't," I say ducking my head in shame.

"She'll come around," he says putting a hand on my shoulder. "I just wanted to personally thank you for putting Hudson in his place. What he did was not cool. Brittany is the nicest racer I've ever met. You have my support. If anyone messes with either of you ever again look me up and give me a call."

"Uncle Puck let's go," Beth yells from a distance.

We both laugh. "That's my cue to go. But good luck in the big race. And remember what I said. Give Brittany my best."

"Will do, Puckerman. Thanks."

He nods once and we go our separate ways.

* * *

I take a quick shower when I get home and throw on some comfy clothes, happy to get out of that sweaty suit. I apply some lip gloss in the mirror and throw on a pair of toms before grabbing my keys and strutting to my car.

I arrive at the hospital with food for Britt and myself. She's lying with her back to the door when I walk in. She turns around to see who came in but turns back when she sees it's me. Her eyes are red and puffy and I could see the dried streaks of tears on her pale complexion. I drop the food on a table and run to her side, squatting down so that we're eye level.

"Britt, baby, what's wrong?" I say running a thumb gently over her cheek.

She starts crying again and it breaks my heart. She sobs, "You. . . you went b-behind m-my back and raced. You c-could've. . . gotten hurt, Santana. What were you thinking?"

I gulp and begin hesitantly. "I was thinking that Hudson needed to pay for what he did. I was thinking that I would win for you because I know how much you wanted this. I was thinking that I was protecting my girlfriend. I was thinking that I was going to show everyone that I could be more than just a trophy wife or arm candy. I was trying to show that I was supportive and loyal and worthy of you. I did it for you Britt Britt, all of it. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of hiding it, too. How did you find out?"

"They sh-showed the race on TV," she replies.

"Britt," I whisper, "Please talk to me."

"What is there to say, Santana? You betrayed me. You put yourself in danger to prove a point. But racing was my thing, Santana. Don't you get it? Now you've taken that away from me," she says in a bitter tone that is so unlike Brittany. She sighs and begins softly, "I think I just, I just need some time. I can't process this all at once. You should go." Her eyes close and I sigh audibly.

I stand slowly and slip out the door not bothering to look back. When I get to my car I break down. Sobs and whimpers tremble at the surface as I grip my steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. After ten minutes they subside and drive away. I find myself back at the track sitting in the middle of the bleachers. The last person I expect to see shuffles in and sits a few feet away from me, hunched over rubbing his hands together.

"Trouble in paradise," he questions softly.

I don't say anything. He scoots close but stops when I glare at him.

"What do you want, Hudson?" I spit angrily.

"People can be more forgiving than you can imagine. But you have to forgive yourself. Let go of what's bitter and move on," he says cryptically before standing up and leaving.

* * *

This week has been hell. I locked myself in my room and haven't spoken to anybody. I've been crying incessantly and watching reruns of One Tree Hill, which only made me cry more because they made me think of Britt. She gets out of the hospital later today, but I know she doesn't want to see me. I fucked up. I fucked up big time.

I've decided to drop out of the Grand Competition. There's no reason for me to be there anyway. It kills me that Hudson gets to go race, but it kills me even more that the love of my life isn't speaking to me right now.

There's a knock on my door. "Go away," I whine.

The door opens and I turn to see who it is. I'm shocked to see Brittany nervously standing there biting her lip. I pull myself up into a sitting position and she ducks her head from my questioning eyes. She sits on the edge of the bed with her back facing to me twiddling her thumbs.

"You remember my crazy Grandpa Todd, right?" she asks.

"Yeah, course," I reply unsure of where she's going with this. I never actually met the man, but Britt told me about him and showed me pictures.

"He died in a motocross accident. His best friend was supposed to race but then his friend got really sick before the race. Grandpa Todd put his gear on and secretly raced for him. But he didn't make it out of the race, he got trapped in a fatal collision. Do you see why I didn't want you to race, Santana?" she says turning to me.

I look like a fish as I open and close my mouth a few times, afraid to say something wrong.

"Britt, I had no idea. I'm sorry about you grandpa. I shouldn't have raced for you, it was stupid of me. Which is why I dropped out of the competition."

She lunges at me taking me by surprise, but I instinctively wrap my arms around her as she sobs into my neck.

"Shh Britt Britt it's okay. I've got you. I'm okay. I'm right here," I coo.

"Don't ever do anything like that ever again, Tana. I love you too much, I can't lose you. I missed you so much this past week. I forgive you. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me." she cries.

"Baby I could never hate you. And I missed you too. My heart ached for you. I was miserable. I love you so, so much Brittany S. Pierce. Always," I tell her.

She pulls back and latches her salty lips to mine. It's slow and gentle and passionate; it's love. We rediscover each other's bodies like it's our first time together. We cry out in sync and lazily kiss as we come down from our highs.

"You'll never be just a trophy wife to me Tana. You're everything and more," she says cuddled up to me.

I kiss her forehead and we drift into a peaceful sleep, silently agreeing that we'll have this conversation tomorrow.

I don't know what the future holds for us, but I think it's safe to say that it doesn't involve me racing motocross. And for that, I am happy to call myself a rider's girlfriend.


End file.
